If You Love Someone
by Mistletoe Moon
Summary: This is a Lyra and Will fic starting four years after HDM. It's based on the quote: “If you love someone, let them go. If they come back, they are yours. If they don’t, it was never meant to be.” CHAPTER 7 IS FINALLY UP! August 21, 2006.
1. Cry It Out

A/N: I know I haven't written anything in such a long time. I'm really sorry about that. For a while, I had pretty much decided to give up on fanfiction, but then I changed my mind. Thanks for reading this. I really had no idea as to what story I could write about which book, so I chose the His Dark Materials Trilogy, as it's my favorite trilogy, and the ending is sad beyond belief. I apologize for any inconsistencies you may find, because I don't own the books, and thus am doing this from memory. I hope you like it!

* * *

Four years had passed since that fateful day when both Lyra and Will believed that their worlds had ended. The wounds that had afflicted both their hearts when torn from each other would not heal, but each managed to hide it well in front of others, and most importantly, from themselves. Each day, they would put on cheerful façades, ready to go out and face the world. Even when alone, this façade would not falter, for each knew that if it did, he/she would not be able to go on. It was only when they slept that the mask was removed, and the only ones to see the true Lyra and Will, their maskless selves, were Pantalaimon and Kirjava, their dæmons.

Four long years ago, Lyra had been a naïve, joyful girl, her effervescence making all in her presence smile. That had been before her adventures, when she was just Lyra Belacqua of Jordan College. Now she was quiet, seventeen-year-old Lyra Silvertongue of Valycra, the most prestigious girl's college in Oxford.

This Lyra Silvertongue of Valycra was different from Lyra Belacqua of Jordan in more ways than just how loud she could be. If possible, she was now even more beautiful than she had been before with long, golden tresses flowing in waves down to her waist, framing her sweet, narrow face accentuated by her piercing blue eyes full of understanding. The new Lyra understood things that the old one hadn't. She had matured from her experience in the other worlds, and most of all, from being in love. In love with one boy...now a man...Will Parry.

Will hadn't changed much, according to people who didn't know him. Sure, he had grown from a skinny, young boy to an eighteen-year-old man, with the body and face to prove it. Strong muscles were evident in his frame, and Will was tall as any. Yet, he had a gentle look about him. Perhaps it was his tousled hair, or maybe it was the soulful, brown eyes; they didn't know. He had always been somewhat quiet and reserved—almost reclusive, they would say. But these were the people who never made an effort to get to know them. Dr. Mary Malone knew that he had changed. He hadn't had the twinge of sadness and resignment in his eyes until after he knew what it meant to love...and to lose. Grief and maturity beyond his years could be read in those eyes when he was off guard. But to the rest of the world, Will's eyes showed no emotion, a look acquired when he and Lyra had parted. A look hardened two days ago, when his mother had finally died peacefully in his arms, thus joining her loving husband and one true love after a long battle with insanity.

Will knew that all she had wanted to do was to join her husband and be with him after their ten-year separation that had torn at her heart, a feeling Will knew well. But she had hung onto life for Will, her darling, her only child, and even if she had not been coherent for the past few years, she had certainly loved him. Though driven mad with grief of her husband's disappearance, her motherly instincts would not let her die until Will was of age and had graduated from high school. It had been the one thought that had been clear in her mind, the one thing that kept her alive all these years. And now she was gone.

Will had already decided that she was happier where she was now, that her mind was no longer cluttered and confused as it had been in life. It was so hard to let go...he had come to feel protective of his mother, since she was obviously no longer able to take care of him. Now he no longer had a driving goal, and Will felt that he no longer had a purpose in life. He would go to Oxford College, graduate in four years with a law degree...and then what? Argue with people day in and day out to get money? This was not his idea of a fulfilling future.

He needed to talk. To someone, anyone! Where was Kirjava, anyways? These days, she was never about, and when she came back, she would never tell him where she had been. She always smiled mysteriously and left it at that. He would visit Mary.

Will grabbed his jacket from the coat rack, slipped it on, and left the house, carefully locking the door behind himself. He shivered as a gust of wind blew forcefully at him, piercing through the microscopic holes between the fibers of his jacket. He picked up his pace and walked briskly toward Mary's house, which was only five blocks away. He had decided that it would be better for him and his mother if they moved closer. Besides, it wasn't as if they could return to their old house. While he had been gone, the city had bought their house from him, not caring whether or not he lived in it. They had sold everything in house and deposited the money into his parents' bank account. With the money from the house the city had bought, Will bought a small, two-person home nearby Mary's, where they had lived for four years. Now he would have to sell this one and move again....It was a good thing Will didn't have very many possessions; they had mostly been liquidated and the money deposited. He was also grateful that his parents only had one bank account, and that through the years, interest rates had soared and left him with more money than he could ever use in his lifetime.

When he reached Mary's house, he found the door unlocked. He knocked and entered. She must have been expecting him. True, he had been over there for most of the time during the past two days, seeking comfort, warmth, and love. He had only gone home to sleep, for now that his mother was dead, he couldn't bear to see so many reminders of her all over the house.

"Will, is that you?" Mary yelled from the kitchen.

"Yes. How are you?" Will responded.

"Hold on there; I'm coming right out...let me just put on the tea kettle..." Mary came out of the kitchen. "Can't hear you very well in there. The stove's quite noisy." She looked at Will carefully. "My dear boy, have you been getting any sleep for the past two days?" she asked concernedly. "Your eyes are bloodshot!"

Will groaned. "You're partially right. They _are_ bloodshot. But I _have_ been trying to get some sleep. It's just that...I can't fall asleep very easily, and when I do, I have the most horrible nightmares of my mother, calling out to my father and not being able to find him. And he's calling for her. They can't seem to find each other, though they're very, very close. And then the dream spins to Lyra. She's deathly pale, and her eyes are wide with fright. She and Pan are bound to the wall, and a hooded man beats them. I too am tied up and can't escape. I yell for him to stop beating her, to kill me instead. He laughs maniacally and begins to lift her dress and force himself on her. She screams hysterically, and as much as I try, I can't get loose to help her. I can't even stop watching the scene, for another man holds my head in that direction and opens my eyelids so that I must see...I loved them so much, Mary. The father I never knew, the mother I had to take care of...and Lyra. I don't give my love easily, but it seems as if everyone I ever loved has been taken from me. Everyone except for you and Kirjava." Will began to break down and cry, something he hadn't done since goodness knows when.

Mary awkwardly patted him on the back, and said, "There, there. Cry it all out, Will. You're eighteen years old and a man, but you need a good cry once in a while. Everyone does. And if you never cry, you aren't human. You can't hold it in like that anymore, Will. Cry it out, dear. Just cry it out."

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A/N: I don't know how long this chapter is, because it's different on Microsoft Word than on the internet. I hope it's not too short...and I know this chapter's kind of depressing, and not much goes on. We'll get some more action later, I promise. This is just my introduction. I hope you liked it. Please review!


	2. The Funeral

A/N: I don't know why I'm writing another chapter when I haven't gotten any reviews. I guess I'm really anxious just to _write_ something, even if I don't know if people will like it. I don't even know if _I'll_ like it. I don't even know what I'm writing. It's 12:51 AM, by the way, so if I don't make much sense...that's why.

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Will stared hard as person after person filed under the crowded tent, paying their last respects to his mother. He nodded numbly and mumbled words he would never be able to recall as they tried to offer in comfort. All he could think was, _She's gone. To a better place. To join my father. She's happy now, and I should be too._ But he wasn't happy. When he had been parted from Lyra, he had tried to fill the hole in his heart by caring for his mother more than ever. Now that she was gone, what could he do? How could he fill the void?

Neighbor after neighbor filled the small row of chairs, and for a second, Will vaguely wondered if he would have to get more. But he didn't; there were just enough. He glanced at his watch. It was 2:00. Time to start the service.

Will had wanted to perform the service himself, not caring whether or not it would be done conventionally. He had wanted to be the one who spoke of her caring nature and selfless love, the one who sang her into everlasting sleep, the one who carefully piled dirt over her coffin. She had brought him lovingly into this world, and he would make sure that she was sent lovingly out of it.

Will cleared his throat, and the noise died down. "Hello, everyone," he said nervously. "I would like to thank you for coming today to the funeral service of my beloved mother, Elaine Aurora Wyndfield Parry. There is no way to tell you how much this means to me to see that my mother had so many beloved friends. I know most of you did not know her until after her...illness." Will paused, unsure of their reactions. When he saw nothing, he continued. "Some of you did, and I am grateful that you have decided to remain by her during the toughest years of her life. I know she may never have thanked you personally for the kindness you have shown both to her and myself, but surely you can see that if she had been lucid, she would have." He mentally reproached himself; now he was rambling. "The woman who lies before you today was one of the most loving people I know. When she married my father, John Parry, I am told it was a whirlwind romance, something people believed would not last more than a few months. But they were wrong; they loved each other more than life itself. My father died four years ago, faithful to his wife to the very last, even when a...woman...killed him for it." Will didn't know how his audience would react to the idea of a witch. "My mother pined for him since the day he left her, yearning for him to the point of insanity. I believe wholeheartedly that she knew the instant he died, for when I returned, her eyes were even more mournful than ever before. Since then, she has been waiting for me to grow up so that she could join her waiting husband. I know that she is happy now, wherever she is, for she is with him at last. She would not want us to weep for her sake, and I can only hope that I can fulfill her wish. Lastly, I would like to share a few words of wisdom that my mother shared with me. Her last moments before her death were her most lucid in fourteen years. I shall always remembered them." Will closed his eyes and saw his mother's wan face, her eyes closed, her pale lips barely moving. "She said to me, 'My son, listen carefully as I tell you a lesson which you should remember all your life. This applies to all but the dead. If you love someone, let them go. If they come back to you, they are yours. If not, it was never meant to be.' And with that, I would like to conclude my speech."

The applause was thunderous, yet the crowd looked pensive at the same time, mulling over what Will had just quoted. Mrs. Parry had indeed been a wise lady.

When the clapping died down, Will asked, "Would anyone like to say a few words?"

No one in the room stirred. Finally one man got up and said, "I think you've said all that needs to be said, Will. And no one could have done a better job. Your parents would have been proud." This was the highest praise anyone could give him, and Will knew it.

"If that's it then, I would like to sing a song for you," Will said tentatively. "I remember my mother singing it to me when I was little and needed to be sung to sleep. She always had a wistful look on her face when singing it, and once, when I asked her, she said it was because of my father. At that time, I was too young to understand, but now that I do, I'd like to sing it one for her one last time."

His deep tenor voice rang out with a rich melody.

"_The sun is sinking low in the sky above Ashokan.  
The pines and the willows know soon we will part."_

Why was he thinking of Lyra? 

"_There's a whisper in the wind of promises unspoken,  
And a love that will always remain in my heart."  
_

Oh, goodness, he missed her so._  
_

"_My thoughts will return to the sound of your laughter,  
The magic of moving as one,"  
_

They had parted so long ago...

"_And a time we'll remember long ever after  
The moonlight and music and dancing are done."_

The pain had never subsided._  
_

"_Will we climb the hills once more?  
Will we walk the woods together?"  
_

He wondered if she had forgotten him.

"_Will I feel you holding me close once again?  
Will every song we've sung stay with us forever?  
Will you dance in my dreams or my arms until then?"  
_

Of course not. She loved him._  
_

"_Under the moon the mountains lie sleeping  
Over the lake the stars shine."_

And he loved her._  
_

"_They wonder if you and I will be keeping  
The magic and music, or leave them behind."_

He wondered...

Thunderous applause once again met Will's ears. No time to wonder now. He had to do the job he had been anticipating and dreading at the same time. The audience gathered in a circle around the open grave. Together with a few volunteers in the audience, Will lifted the coffin and put it carefully into the ground. Women threw roses into the grave, and Will began to cover it with the rich, brown dirt. One shovel full. Then two. Slowly the coffin was covered until the hole was only two feet deep. Will put the shovel down. The gravediggers would finish the job and put in the tombstone. He had done all he could.

Suddenly exhausted, Will retreated to a chair. It was a good thing the group had began to mingle together and didn't notice his sudden lack of energy. Will closed his eyes and remembered his own words about not crying...for his mother's sake. He wouldn't cry. She'd want him to be happy...

A cool hand touched his shoulder, and he turned around to see Mary. The melancholy smile on her face made him feel slightly better.

"Cheer up, Will," she said. "You did a fine job orchestrating and carrying out your mother's funeral. The song was beautiful. Absolutely perfect," she said, wiping tears off her cheek.

"Thank you," he replied quietly.

They sat together quietly, until a fellow mourner called for Mary to come over. Mary got up and started to walk towards the woman, when she turned back.

"Midsummer's Eve is next week, you know," she whispered to Will, whose eyes were closed again.

"Yes," Will said quietly to himself. Even in this time of despair, or perhaps because of it, Will hadn't forgotten his meeting with Lyra. These days, it was all he was looking forward to.

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A/N: Oh! Sad chapter! I really hope someone will review this and tell me if it's worth continuing. I really will try to get Lyra in soon...bear with me. It's 2:04 AM...so... By the way, the song is called Ashokan Farewell. The tune is by Jay Ungar, and the lyrics are by Grian MacGregor. And now that I'm trying to post this thing, it tells me the server's overloaded...great.


	3. The Alethiometer

A/N: I think I've pretty much planned out the whole story...except for the ending. It kind of seems to crash at the end. I'll work on that. It's not very close anyways...but this chapter is a Lyra chapter. Thanks so much, to all the people who reviewed, by the way! I felt so happy that people took the time to write to me. Also, I don't remember the images and their meanings, so I had to make up my own. This, obviously, took a long time. I hope you don't mind that I'm not Philip Pullman, and thus cannot make it exactly like the His Dark Materials Trilogy symbols.

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Lyra flopped on her bed, exhausted after the long graduation ceremony she had been forced to attend. Granted, it _was_ on her behalf...but still. Seven hours in a body-hugging silk dress, wearing high heels and practically being forced to smile at people the entire time was not something she had been looking forward to, and she was definitely glad it was over. After the first two hours, even Pan, who usually stuck close to her, had slunk off, muttering something about feeling faint. He _had_ been looking a bit under the weather recently, Lyra had noticed, but he hadn't really been around long enough for her to find out what was the matter.

A knock on Lyra's door made her bolt upright; she was unwilling to be chastised by Mrs. Farthingsworth for lying so ungracefully on the bed in an expensive silk dress. Sure enough, it was Mrs. Farthingsworth.

"Lyra, dear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Farthingsworth?"

"May I come in?"

"Of course." The cheerful older woman opened the door to reveal a stout, matronly figure dressed as a head maid should. _Surely Mrs. Farthingsworth is the most elegant of head maids, or rather ladies-in-waiting, as she likes to be called,_ Lyra thought vaguely to herself. Mrs. Farthingsworth's poodle trotted in beside the woman.

"You haven't changed out of the dress," Mrs. Farthingsworth noted in disapproval.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't say sorry, dear, just change," Mrs. Farthingsworth said briskly. Lyra smiled. Despite the matron's firm attitude, Lyra loved her dearly and respected her as well.

Lyra began changing into a cotton nightdress, as Mrs. Farthingsworth hung up her gown. She pulled pins out of her hair, and it fell down to her waist. She picked up a brush and started to comb it.

"Where's Pantalaimon?" Mrs. Farthingsworth asked suddenly.

"Sorry?" Lyra said, startled. Mrs. Farthingsworth repeated the question.

"Oh...he's just...outside...on the roof...getting some air," Lyra said slowly. Now that she thought of it, she didn't know where he had gone. She was grateful that the window was open to make her excuse plausible; for some reason, she thought it best that she didn't advertise that she and Pantalaimon could be further apart than most people and their dæmons.

"Oh," Mrs. Farthingsworth said. "Percival had just wondered where he had gone." The poodle by her side nodded in agreement.

"Ah," Lyra said vaguely. She tried to stifle a yawn, so as to not be impolite, but the matron saw it quickly.

"We should be going now. I'm sorry I didn't notice how tired you were, dear. I will see you tomorrow. Good night." She shuffled out of the room after hanging up Lyra's dress in her closet.

"Good night," Lyra called after her. She brushed her teeth and crawled into bed, wondering where in the world Pan was. She decided to ask the alethiometer; after all, that was what it was for, right? Now that she had graduated, she was allowed to use the alethiometer to do whatever she wanted, not just what others wanted her to do. This was the power that she had been looking forward to the most.

She took a key from around her neck and leaned over to the nightstand beside her bed. Carefully opening the top drawer, she felt the upper portion for a hidden spring. Once locating it, she pushed it, and a keyhole popped out. She slipped the tiny key into it and unlocked the secret drawer. She reached in and pulled out a velvet bag, and from it, removed the alethiometer. She held it carefully in her hands; she would never get tired of looking at the intricate little images on its face.

Concentrating hard, she first asked, _Where is Pan?_ The needle spun around and around, not landing on any of the images. Puzzled, she stopped her concentration, and the needle stopped spinning. The alethiometer would not tell her where he was!

Perhaps she had lost her skill to use it once again. But...she had just completed the arduous process of relearning it. Now she _understood_ it, how it worked, each level of meaning of the answer, why it worked the way it did. She could not have forgotten. But just in case, she asked a question she knew the answer to. _What color is my nightgown?_ The alethiometer's needle spun around, landing on the water droplet. _Blue._ That was correct. So it wasn't her fault.

Lyra returned to her original question. But after several failed attempts to find her dæmon, she gave up and asked a different question. _Is he safe?_ He was. _Will he come back soon?_ She'd see him in two hours if she were still awake.

Satisfied with the response from the alethiometer, she asked a question she had been waiting to know the answer to for four long years. _Where is Will?_ The needle spun around and around, but Lyra did not have to concentrate hard to know the answer. _He is safe in his world in a house he and his mother bought four years ago._ Of course. What a question. Lyra laughed at herself.

Now for a more serious question. _How is Will doing?_ This time, it took all of Lyra's concentration to understand the whirling needle. It seemed to be very excited, and it spewed out information almost faster than Lyra could understand. _Will's mother died a week ago. He was extremely distraught, but bore it as a man should. His world is falling apart around him, and he is beginning to reassess his life, wondering whether or not he should have left you. He believes that all he loves have been taken away from him...his father, his mother, you...He wonders about Kirjava and why she is away so much, especially in one of his greatest hours of need. He has lost a lot of weight recently, having been put through more stress than most men when they die. He misses you very much and lives for your meeting in two days. If not for Mary..._

Lyra would never find out what would have happened if not for Mary. The poor darling! What was Kirjava thinking when she left him? And where _was_ Pan? If only Lyra could be there to comfort him, to stroke his unruly hair and caress his angular face....If only they could be together again, even if it were only for a day...if only...

Lyra fell asleep with dreams of Will and her "If Only"s. Needless to say, while they were pleasant thoughts, her heart was anguished throughout the night, for deep down in Lyra's subconscious, she knew that it could never be.

Two hours later, a red-gold pine marten crawled through the window and settled on Lyra's bed. If someone had seen it just then, he would have noted that though the pine marten's fur was becoming ratty and lacked the luster that it had once had, it was still more beautiful than any other pine marten in the best of health, for what it lacked in physical beauty, it made up for with the strange, heavenly glow that shrouded it.

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A/N: Sorry! It's shorter than the other two chapters by quite a bit...but I know what the rest of the story's going to be like! And I might post another one tomorrow, if I get it written...I think two more chapters until Midsummer's Eve. Now to thank my reviewers.**million-tears**

I'm really glad you like it! And thought it was touching. I was worried that people would think it was very depressing and all and decide not to read it. Congratulations on being the first reviewer!

**Becca the Great**

Basically, I want to tell you the same thing as million-tears. You can't really see Will crying, can you? I hope I didn't over do it and make it seem unrealistic.

**FeltonLover101**

Thanks for putting me on your Favorites List!

**AislinnStar**

Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like it!

**Alison**

I have noticed that I _do_ tend to ramble a lot...just in general. Thanks for pointing that out. I'm trying to get out of the habit, but the problem is, sometimes I can't _tell_ when I'm rambling. Also, the last funeral I went to was when I was about four years old, so I don't remember very much, so I wouldn't really know if people clap or not, or what a eulogy sounds like. And I couldn't find anything to copy off the internet...so...I'm trying to walk a fine line between realistic and fantasy. Because His Dark Materials maintains a fantastic world, while keeping it believable. I think I'm going to end up transcending that line and passing into the fantastic world...so bear with me please. Thanks very much for the suggestions!

**fuzzi fox**

Thank you so much for reviewing both chapters! TWO reviews! I was so excited. I'm glad you liked the second chapter...I wrote it when I was half asleep (like right now, only more so because right now it's only 12:30 AM...) so I was afraid it wouldn't make any sense when I was awake. But I think my auto-pilot's doing just fine. As I've told Alison, my story's probably going to become more fantastic so that Lyra and Will can get together without some sort of brilliant ideas that could only come from the master himself.

(By the way, when I say fantastic, I don't mean great. That would be pretty pompous, for the way I'm using it. I mean fantastic. As in fantasy-ish.) Hope you review this chapter too! And this is the first time I've tried writing to individual reviewers, so I'm testing this out...


	4. The Republic of Heaven

* * *

A/N: I'm writing at an amazingly fast rate for myself. Which is sad, because this is not very fast at all. I write a chapter each time I sit down and write! Albeit a short chapter, but a chapter all the same. Yay for me! You have no idea how long I spent thinking about the Republic of Heaven.

* * *

The next night Lyra sat in her bed once again, staring at the alethiometer as she had less than 24 hours ago. The question that had weighted heavily on her mind for four years would now be answered....That is, if the alethiometer would cooperate. Lyra's hands trembled slightly as she moved the needles. She concentrated hard on the question, praying fervently that she would get an answer. 

_How must I build the Republic of Heaven?_ She watched the needles spin back around rapidly, but unlike the previous day, she easily understood the meaning. It was quite effortless, and the alethiometer seemed to be patiently telling her of what she had to do.

The needle spun to arrows, then to an olive branch. Government. What was something that worked with government? Choice. Free will. At least in a Republic. So what was Heaven? She and Will had basically rocked the basis of the Jewish and Christian worlds four years ago. How was there to be a Heaven? The needle spun again and indicated to a lump of gold Lyra knew to represent Dust. Oh! The world of the dead!

Wait. There was more. Lips. Then people. A large group. This part she didn't understand. But she had at least gotten part of the message. She now understood what the Republic of Heaven was. Perhaps tomorrow she would understand the second part of the answer. Mulling it over in the garden, knowing that Will was there too in another world would certainly help.

Curling herself into a ball and making sure the window was still open for Pan, who was gone again, Lyra fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Will heaved a sigh of relief as he began walking down the street, a large suitcase in his left hand and a backpack on his back. Having sold the house and almost all of his possessions, he now had a great deal of cash in his bank, not that it made any difference to him. The most relieving part of his mother's death, morbid as he knew it would sound, was that he no longer had to worry about anyone other than himself. And of course, the currently absent Kirjava. And Mary. But he knew they could take care of themselves.

Will now had no possessions other than what he carried—a suitcase full of clothing that he cared little about, and his backpack. Inside held a myriad of treasures such as one photo album, his mother's beloved pearl-decorated fountain pen that had been given to her by her husband, a checkbook, toiletries, a pad of paper, a small blanket, locks of hair from his loved ones....His two most treasured possessions, however, hung on a long chain around his neck. One ring had been his father's, a solid gold band with an emerald in the center. The other was a fine gold ring with a diamond in the center, surrounded by tiny emeralds. The two were obviously a set and matched perfectly with one another. They had been his parents'. For some reason, he wanted them around his neck until he could put it either on the fingers of himself and his loved one.

Will took a deep breath as he walked towards Mary's house, where he would be living until he could find another place to live. When he got there, he was relieved to find Kirjava waiting patiently for him. He lay down his large suitcase, readjusted his backpack, and together the two of them set out for the garden where they would "meet" Lyra.

* * *

It was almost time to meet Will. Or at least, that's what Lyra considered it as. Will would never forget; she was sure of that. She wouldn't either.

Lyra had a little time...about twenty minutes. Everyone was already asleep, so there was no one to talk to except for Pan, who seemed to be preoccupied with grooming himself. She had made a feeble attempt to converse with him earlier, only to be given a few polite but uninterested responses. She would ask him what was wrong tomorrow. Tonight she was just anxious to meet Will.

"Come, Pan. Let's go."

"Why so early?"

"I don't know. Do you mind?"

"No. Let's go." Lyra picked up her cloak, and the two started out the window. They quickly arrived at the garden, where Lyra pulled her cloak tightly around the shoulders and sat on the bench. It was quite chilly that night, and the wind was stronger than it usually was.

"Pan? What's wrong?" Lyra asked concernedly. Pan was shivering like a leaf; something he never did, even in the dead of winter. His beautiful coat had always kept him warm. Not this time.

"It's...nothing. Don't worry." Pan looked faint in the moonlight.

"Are you sure? You've been so distant lately, I don't know what to think..." Lyra said concernedly.

"Yes. It's nothing, Lyra. Trust me. Nothing at all." Pan said decidedly. "Now, concentrate. It is almost midnight."

The bell tower began to sound ominously once, twice, three times....As the bells tolled sonorously, Lyra closed her eyes, imagining as she did every year what it would feel like if Will were beside her.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Will's world the bells too began to chime, telling all that it was midnight. Like Lyra, Will closed his eyes. If only she could be beside him, just this once, telling him she loved him as much as she ever had, comforting him, soothing his wounds. He felt deserted by all of his loved ones but Mary, and if only she could come back to him, even just for a little bit...

Will's eyes opened as the twelfth toll sounded. He suddenly heard soft breathing next to him, and at once his senses were peaked, and he was alert. He started when he recognized who sat beside him.

"Lyra?" Could it be?

"Will?"

* * *

A/N: Left you with a cliffhanger there, sorry. As a note/warning, posts may get slower as time goes on. School starts very soon, so...

**FeltonLover101**

Thank you!

**fuzzifox**

I'm glad you like this story! I usually am a bad person and don't stick with stories, especially when the writer is as slow as myself and writes such short chapters. I admire you for this. In the next chapter, you'll find out why Pan and Kirjava have been away from Lyra and Will for so much of the time.

**JohnandSlation**

I don't quite understand what you mean by "I was wondering if it would be fair to the story to read something that kinda takes the story into its own hands", but whatever it was, thank you for your support! I have read _Lyra's Oxford_, and frankly, was quite disappointed by it. It was about fifty pages long and basically had no relevance to the trilogy, or at least none that I was subtle enough to understand. I don't remember much of it, even though I only read it a couple months ago, which is quite sad. Reading it actually made me a little sad, because it seemed as if Philip Pullman had created an epic trilogy, and now was just tagging a fifty-page essay onto the back of it, likely making thousands off of the essay, which would never have been published if it hadn't had a predecessor...or three. I'm not sure if that made any sense, but the point is, I didn't like it, and it made me sad. Tell me what you think. I like to have different perspectives on things, especially if you have a different point of view or could enlighten me as to what the purpose of _Lyra's Oxford_ was.


	5. Rising in the Sky

A/N: I hope this chapter is as good as it needs to be to make people happy...one of those people being me...and I also hope it's fluffy enough for you all. I love fluff! Whee! Here we go...

* * *

"Lyra?"

"Will?"

"Is it really you, Lyra?" Will asked tentatively, unable to let himself believe lest he was mistaken.

"Yes! It's me!" With that, Lyra choked on a sob and flung herself into Will's arms. They embraced fiercely, holding on as if they would never let go, each believing that if they released their holds even a little, the other would disappear.

"I've missed you so much, Lyra," Will said, burying his face in her hair, tears of happiness streaming down both faces.

"I've missed you too," Lyra whispered, snuggling into his firm embrace, happy to be held against his chest at last.

* * *

Pan and Kirjava had recognized the other immediately. They had embraced lovingly, but rather casually, especially when compared to Will and Lyra. If the couple had stopped to think and watch the daemons, they would have realized that the daemons' meeting was likely not their first in four years...or even in a couple of weeks. But Will and Lyra were too busy trying to make up for lost time.

* * *

When they finally pulled apart, Will took a good look at Lyra. He was awestruck with how beautiful she had grown in the years they had been apart. Even with her tear-stained face, she was still gorgeous, her beauty enhanced by the light in her eyes.

As Will was watching Lyra, she too was looking at him. How he had grown, from a thin, young boy on the edge of adolescence to a man. Lyra felt that as long as he was beside her, nothing could harm her. But she could not overlook the desperate look in his eyes, even when it was temporarily masked by love.

"What's wrong, Will?"

"Wrong? Nothing anymore. You're with me, and nothing can go wrong."

"Tell me, Will."

He heaved a heavy sigh. If she really wanted to know, he supposed he would tell her. After all, what would he do without her? He began to relate how Kirjava had been missing lately, since about two weeks ago. He had been so preoccupied with his mother's illness, and later death, that he hadn't noticed until after the funeral. He told her how he felt as though everyone he loved had been taken from him...his father, his mother, and Lyra. He was losing Kirjava now; he was sure of it. He berated himself for not having paid more attention to her before.

"Now, all I have is Mary, who has her own life, a great new career...and a fiancé!" Will's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. He had been so wrapped up in his grief that he had forgotten about Mary's wedding ceremony the next day. "Oh my goodness!" he said. "I'd forgotten! She's to be married tomorrow..." Will groaned. "You see, Lyra, I'm so worried...I'm so afraid of losing the people I love. Mary won't be gone, but she'll belong to someone. It'll be different somehow...we'll still be friends...but..."

"I understand," Lyra said soothingly. "You've lost your parents and feel as if you're losing Kirjava and Mary."

"Yes. And you. It feels as if I'm betraying my parents and Kirjava by saying this, but of all the people I love, I would hate to lose you the most. Lyra, I love you so much..."

With that, Will could contain himself longer. He pulled Lyra to him, and kissed her fiercely on her lips, enjoying the sensation as much as he had the first time. The kiss grew deeper, if possible, and Will's tongue begged for entrance into Lyra's mouth. When she let him, she shivered from his caressing touch. Will took this to mean that she was cold and broke the kiss at once to give her his jacket.

"Oh, no, Will. I don't need it. I'm warm enough with this cloak, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Then shall we resume?" he asked, smirking.

Lyra didn't respond, but pulled his mouth down to hers for an innocent kiss. Then another, more passionate kiss. Lyra put her arms around Will's neck as he pulled her to him, hands on her waist. Neither noticed that they and their daemons were being lifted gently into the air on a puffy, white cloud.

* * *

As they rose higher and higher, Lyra's cloak slowly ceased to be warm enough, and she broke off their kiss and clung to Will. That was when they both looked down, only to see that the ground and their feet were no longer in contact.

"Will, what's happening?"

"I'm not sure."

"Pan? Kirjava?" This was the first time she had spoken to the daemons.

The two smiled mysterious smiles, and Kirjava said, "You will find out soon. Do not be worried."

Will and Lyra looked at each other puzzledly, but said nothing. Will only held her closer as they rose into the sky.

* * *

After what seemed like an hour but really was only a few minutes of silence, they slowed their ascent, and the air grew gradually warmer, the sky gradually brighter. Finally they stopped, and Xaphania appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. With a smile on her face as she saw the young lovers, she said softly,

"Welcome to the Realm of the Angels."

* * *

A/N: Another semi-cliffhanger...sorry! And a short chapter too. The next one may come out before next Wednesday if you're lucky, (and if I'm lucky,) but it probably won't. And then I start school...so...BUT I WON'T ABANDON THIS FIC! Even though it's actually about halfway through...Also, I didn't remember if he gave a name to the angels' world, so...(Remember, I don't have the books and haven't read them since six months ago for the second time.) Hope you liked this chapter! Please review!

**Eye of the Dodo:**

I'm really glad you liked my fic! I'm very conscious about spelling mistakes and grammar, because it hurts my soul every time I read something that has either one. I'm really sorry about the quotation marks and spacing with quotations. I seem to have missed the day when those were taught in elementary school...and now you suffer the consequences. I basically end up starting a new line for every new thing said and from there...it's kind of random. Sorry about that.

**incarnated-soul**

The daemons do indeed have a way of meeting each other. I'm not going to be mysterious, because after reading this chapter, you've probably already figured that out. Congratulations for the great inference! I'm glad you like my story.

**Johnandslation**

I've never thought of _Lyra's Oxford_ that way. Now that you mention it, I'm inclined to agree. I really do hope that Philip Pullman _does_ continue the trilogy...but that would mess up my story. (And although I would be heartbroken, I would still love for the master himself to write the story, not an amateur like me.) I love the part where they realize they're in love...and always cry when I read that they have to part...it's so heartbreakingly sad! And the understanding how they feel...good for you! As for feeling crazy, it's good to admit it to yourself. I found that I did...and unlike you, I broadcast it. Well, not so much the fact that I'm psycho, more like the fact that I'm eccentric...very much so...Just a question: is this two people reviewing? Who am I writing to? The name makes it sound like two, but the reviews are always from one person's point of view. Just curious. Thanks for reviewing.

**fuzzifox**

I hope that was fluffy and romantic enough for you...I love reading fluff, but can't write it all that well...

**Dajare**

I agree, cliffhangers _are _evil...unfortunately, so am I. Thus, you are once again left with a cliffhanger...and will be until I decide to update again. Smiles sweetly

Review, review, review! It motivates me to write!


	6. The Sacrifice

A/N: I'm SO sorry! So much for "I won't abandon my fic!" School started, I discovered I had a social life, and the rest is history. But I'm back now, in the middle of APs! Go me!

Something equally bad: I have forgotten my plans for this story. I think I arrived at a point where I had none, so I didn't continue it. But now I _know_ I don't have one. So…this could be disastrous. Hopefully it won't be : ).

* * *

_After what seemed like an hour but really was only a few minutes of silence, they slowed their ascent, and the air grew gradually warmer, the sky gradually brighter. Finally they stopped, and Xaphania appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. With a smile on her face as she saw the young lovers, she said softly,_

"_Welcome to the Realm of the Angels."_

* * *

Will and Lyra stared at Xaphania blankly, not believing what they saw. Xaphania was more beautiful than they had remembered, more resplendent in her ethereal beauty than ever. The haunted look that had covered her face was now replaced with one of happiness and truth. Yes, the war had taken a toll on her, but the sight of Will and Lyra together at last was worth it. At the same time, however, her image was not as clear as it had been…it seemed lighter, as though she were barely there. But Will and Lyra did not notice this; they were too caught up in the events that had occurred in the past hour.

"I knew this day would one day arrive," Xaphania said gently, waiting for either of the two young lovers to respond.

Lyra collected herself quickly and replied, "Thank you very much, Xaphania. I'm afraid this is all very sudden…Will and I haven't seen each other since…since…"

She couldn't say it, and Xaphania nodded wisely.

"Yes, I know. Since that fateful day. A day we shall all remember until we die."

There was a long silence as each remembered that day.

"But how did it all happen?" Will asked suddenly, having finally regained his ability to speak.

Xaphania smiled yet again and looked towards Pan and Kirjava.

"It was your daemons' doing," she said. "They were the ones who figured it out." She nodded at them, encouraging them to tell the entire story.

"Lyra, you remember all those times when you couldn't find me? When you asked the alethiometer where I had gone and it gave no coherent reply?" Pan asked.

"Of course," Lyra responded.

"And you remember too, don't you Will?" Kirjava asked.

"Yes," he said. Lyra and Will exchanged glances as it finally dawned on them both that their daemons had been together during that time.

"Well, we were here in the Realm of Angels, the highest realm of them all," said Kirjava.

"It extends in all directions and transcends all worlds," added Pan. "That's how the angels can go through them all."

"The Republic of Heaven…" whispered Lyra to herself in awe. Will heard her and hugged her close to him, letting her know that he too realized what they had to do.

"The angels are fading," Xaphania said softly. "It is our time to go, and we know it."

"What?" Will asked forcefully. "How can that happen? I thought angels were the most permanent beings there were." Lyra put a hand on his arm to calm him.

"Yes, Will, it is our time," said Xaphania. "Long ago, when angels were created, we thought we were the most powerful beings in the universe. We thought we were invincible and immortal. But as you know, we are not. There are ways to kill an angel, but we do not die from old age. Even so, very early on, an alethiometer told us that we would, someday, have to fade. We would become dust for the good of the world, and at this time, we were to gladly submit or tear the world apart. The time is now, and we all know it."

"But how?" asked Will.

"A group of angels consulted an alethiometer that day that you and Lyra parted. It told us of many secrets and of how our race would fall…in the creation of a new Republic of Heaven. We were to sacrifice ourselves twenty four hours after a Midsummer's Day in the year when two daemons from two different worlds would meet each other once again. Kirjava and Pan did this, which allowed the two of you to meld your two worlds together today, letting you meet as you did. The worlds are beginning to shift, my children. It is midnight now, and in twenty four hours, the shift will be complete, and the world will be one, as it was meant to be."

"You mentioned an alethiometer," said Lyra. "I thought the angels didn't possess any."

"Ah, we don't," replied Xaphania with a sad smile. "I'm so sorry, Lyra. It was yours we used, and the power of the question affected it so deeply. It put so much of its magic, dust reserves, and energy into answering the question that it has only recently been brought back to its original strength."

"You mean to say that I _didn't _lose my ability to read the alethiometer, and that an angel weakened it so much that it stopped working properly?" Lyra exclaimed.

"Calm down, my dear," Xaphania said. "Yes, that is what I mean to say. Have you ever tried another alethiometer? Did anyone else ever try yours?"

Lyra couldn't remember either situation. "No," she said.

"Your masters believed that you had lost your ability to read the instrument. They trained you to do so, and have taught you much. You now have a deeper understanding of the alethiometer and how to read it; it will do much for you. It has recently regained its powers, and it will be a potent instrument in your hands."

"But what about the sacrifice?" Will asked. "Why does it need to happen?"

"The creation of dust is what will provide enough power to fuse the world back together as it should be," Xaphania said. "It is time for us angels to go, and when we fade, dust will be released in quantities not seen since the beginning of time, not even in the moment when you two realized you were in love…"

Will and Lyra smiled faintly.

"All of us angels are willing to perform this final sacrifice," Xaphania said. "We have seen much and are ready to become dust, to join our brothers and sisters who perished in the war. We are willing to lay down the burden now. In twenty four hours, whether the foundations for the Republic of Heaven have been built or not, we will fade into dust. If the world is not ready for this, our sacrifice will have been in vain, and the worlds will be split forever, leaving gaps and creating specters to hunt for souls. If it is prepared, all evil will be turned into dust, and the Republic of Heaven will be a place where all may live together in harmony. It is up to you now to determine the course of the future."

"But…how?" Lyra ventured to ask.

Xaphania smiled. "First, ask Pan and Kirjava how they managed to cross over worlds to meet one another. This will allow you to do so yourselves. Lyra, you have the alethiometer. It will tell you how to join worlds together once you can cross from one world to another. And finally, I have a gift for you, Will." She extended her hand and held out a shining blade.

"It is Aurymelia, the last of the three knives. It is the most powerful of the three, made by angels to form the Republic of Heaven. Many died to release the dust that was put into this knife such that no specters would be created. It is a good knife and can be used for no evil. Use it well."

"Xaphania…" Lyra started.

"No, my dear. That is all I am able to say. The four of you will be on your own now. I must go. Remember, you have twenty four hours. I shall see you at the end of this time. Best of luck to you Pantalaimon, Kirjava, Will Parry, and Lyra Silvertongue; may your love prevail over all."

With that, Xaphania spread her wings and flew away, leaving the two lovers and their daemons stunned and silent as they descended back down to the mixture of their two worlds on the floating cloud.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked that; I kind of did. Well, it's late now; time for me to sleep. Hopefully I'll update again soon…Thanks for all the reviews! Mistletoe Moon 


	7. Traveling Between Worlds

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm sorry for being such an awful writer…haven't written anything for three months, and it's been summer! So here's what I consider one of the last few installments in this story…hopefully, I'll finish it soon, but honestly I doubt it. Now until the end of the year is going to be really busy for me, and I'll be lucky to have time to think, let alone write. But just know I'm trying. Now here we go…know that I haven't planned anything out, and it comes as I write, which doesn't provide for the best plot and all that, but I suppose it works all right.

The foursome was so engrossed in watching Xaphania disappear that they were surprised to realize that they had landed on what was the joining of their two worlds. Lyra was the first to speak.

"Does this mean, then, that your world and my world are now one and the same?" she asked Will.

Will's eyebrows knitted together, and he was deep in thought for a moment before replying.

"Yes, I think so. I'd always had a suspicion, ever since you told me about your world, that the two weren't really so different after all…that perhaps they'd split only very recently. A hundred years ago or so."

"Hm," replied Lyra. The group remained silent once again, thinking of what was to come.

"Well, we musn't stand here," Pan finally said. "Would you like us to tell you how it was that we came to meet?"

"Yes," Will replied immediately. "Please do."

"You know as we do," started Kirjava, "that we'd been thinking of one another, just as much as you and Lyra thought of each other. The only difference is, of course, that your bodies happen to be more solid than ours. No, don't give me that look, Will, it's true. You remember how when you went down to the depths of the dead, we could not cross that river? We, who are made entirely of soul, only have physical forms because we have been wrenched from you. Pan and Lyra were two entities from the time of Lyra's birth, as that is how things work in her world. However, in our world, Will, it is not so. You see, in our world, few people know of their daemons; they do not know they exist. You might not either, except that your soul was wrenched from you when you visited the dead, and that part of you became me. Since I was no longer a part of your body, I had to take on a physical form."

"What about Mary," Lyra asked.

"Ah, Mary," said Pan. "Mary is a special case. Her parents were both from our world. After her mother became pregnant with her, the couple accidentally crossed over to Will's world, where they became lost and disoriented. Her father was already ill from the effects of working in a factory all his life, and he died a month before Mary was born. Her mother, weakened by childbirth and the death of her husband, died two days after Mary's birth. Mary was raised in an orphanage and was never taught to see her daemon until she became older."

"I see," mused Lyra. "But that still doesn't answer how you two crossed the barrier between worlds."

"The same way the witches do," said Kirjava. "We send an essence of ourselves, then our physical forms follow."

"And how do you do that," asked Will.

"Focus," said Pan. "Think not of Lyra, but of the world she lives in. This is the problem. You two have been thinking of each other, and not of the other's world. Do you want to try?"

"Yes," Lyra and Will replied simultaneously.

"Then let us go to Cittagazze," said Kirjava. "You two go first, and we'll follow."

Lyra and Will laced their fingers together and focused on the previously specter-filled world. Lyra's mind filled with images of the people they had met there…including Will. Will with his determined eyes, strong chin, chiseled nose…Lyra pushed these thoughts out of her mind. Cittagazze. Land of the specters. City in the sky. And as these thoughts took over Lyra's consciousness, she felt her physical self growing fainter and fainter, the pressure of Will's hands on hers fading. Weightlessness took over and slowly ebbed away, until she began to feel herself again, tumbling without actually moving. Then finally Lyra felt the solidity of the ground, the warmth of Will's hand, firmly clutching hers. She opened her eyes. She was finally in Cittagazze.

A/N: And…I guess we'll see what happens next. Because I sure don't know!


End file.
